


Regret

by IMtheDevil



Series: Monsta X Short Stories [7]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cancer, Comas - Freeform, Death, Depression, Gen, Not Major Character Death Though, Regret, this is not a happy story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 07:11:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19000906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IMtheDevil/pseuds/IMtheDevil
Summary: Prompt: write about something you regret in life. No character or scenario restrictions.I’m sorry Wonho.





	Regret

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: write about something you regret in life. No character or scenario restrictions.
> 
> I’m sorry Wonho.

(2004)

            The waiting room wasn’t really a room at all. It was a few rows of straight-backed chairs just next to the hospital entrance that faced away from the windows and into the wide corridor. Nurses and visitors hustled from left to right and right to left, not giving the pre-teen boy a second glance. Hoseok shifted in the seat, a pang of thirst made him check his pocket for money. A couple of neatly folded dollar bills spilled out—his mom had handed them to him before going back beyond the reception area.

            “I won’t be too long, but there are vending machines nearby. Just go and come right back if you do get something, okay?” He had nodded at her and she smiled, then turned to follow a nurse through the door.

            Hoseok shifted his eyes, noting the directional signs that indicated various wings, chapel, restrooms, cafeteria, and…vending. He glanced around once more to make sure that his mom wasn’t through already before hopping up and following the signs. He avoided eye contact with the information desk that stood isolated in the center of the lobby.

As Hoseok shuffled past he heard something to his right—a stifled sob emitting from the waiting room for patients in surgery. The room was also open to the hall but had sides to it and a wall that sectioned the room in two, leaving a gap to pass through from one half to the other. He saw a man with his hand resting on a woman’s shoulder as she shook and cried into her hands. Shivering himself from seeing such an intimate moment, Hoseok moved on.

            He turned down a much quieter hall, still following the signs, and saw the door to the chapel. Thinking he had enough time for a quick peek, he stuck his head in. It was much smaller than he imagined, just four or five short rows with an aisle down the middle. There was a fountain attached to the wall next to the door, and a stained glass faux-window stood backlit at the small nave of the chapel. Thankfully he didn’t disturb anyone inside as it was empty. Soft music was playing, and he felt a wave of calm as he shut the door behind him.

            Finally he made it to the vending machines and then back to the rows of chairs where he first started. Hoseok had just cracked open the bottle when his mom walked out. She swept the area and her face lit into a small smile when she saw him sitting there.

            “Ready to go, sweetie?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

(2006)

            Hoseok’s knee jiggled up and down as he bounced his leg. The emotional family members that surrounded him were wearing on his nerves, and he wanted to be anywhere but there. He didn’t like emotion. Didn’t like seeing it, didn’t like expressing it, just didn’t like it.

            They had told him what happened, but the words barely clicked. Hoseok knew she had cancer, but she was successfully going through treatment. It was right before her last chemotherapy session that this—thing—had happened. Something about a combination of West Nile Virus and her weakened immune system that caused her brain to swell. The local hospital couldn’t get the swelling under control, so they had her airlifted to another hospital thirty minutes away. Hoseok had wanted to ride in the helicopter, but they wouldn’t let him.

            So there they were, in the surgery waiting room where he had seen that crying couple all those months ago when he was here with his mom. His mom, who had been just fine. His mom, who was now in surgery where he couldn’t see her. Now, his family took the place of those crying people. And Hoseok wanted to be anywhere else.

            “Your sister wants something to drink, so we’re going to find something. Do you want us to get you anything?” Hoseok’s grandmother pulled him out of his train of thought.

            “Do you know where to go? I can show you.” Hoseok thought back again to when he was last here. A time when things were more simple and less scary.

            “I think that would be good.” His grandmother smiled as he hopped up to lead the way.

…

            Hoseok couldn’t keep track of the time. He couldn’t tell whether it had been hours or minutes that they had waited for news. The news was mixed. They had gotten the swelling down and had woken her up, but the impact had already been made. His mom was in a comatose state. She could hear them, see them, but couldn’t communicate or move in response.

            The words were filtering through his ears, but he couldn’t process them. His mom—the sweetest person he had ever known—wasn’t really there. She was physically there, but only partially mentally present.

 

~~~

 

            The sweltering June day was beginning to get to Hoseok. He sat beside his father, absentmindedly observing his mom in the wheelchair. They were sitting in front of the hospital underneath a sprawling magnolia tree, the shade doing just enough to keep them from retreating inside.

            There seemed to be almost an endless trail of people shifting in, out, and about the hospital. He watched those that passed by, noted their pointed glances and then purposeful looks away. Hoseok thought that the visitors would be used to patients that looked like his mother—after all, the hospital was known for its care. They had been lucky to get his mom here, they would say when he complained about the drive that was at least five hours each way. He, his sister, and his father would spend the weekend with his mom before trekking back. Hoseok knew they wouldn’t be back as much once school started.

            As his father spoke to his sister, Hoseok started to follow pigeons around, imitating the way they walked. Hands on his hips, elbows akimbo, bobbing his head as he strutted about. A sound emitted from his father, and he realized it was laughter. Something he hadn’t heard in a while.

            “You know, your mom used to call pigeons ‘rats with wings.’”

            Hoseok grinned as he nodded. The grin faded as he realized the word choice. As if his comatose mother would never speak again. He pressed his lips together in a thin line, willing his body not to react otherwise. His father shifted, pulling out a cell phone to answer.

            “Hey there…Yeah, we’re with her…We’re just outside enjoying the day.”

            Hoseok met his father’s eyes and mouthed, “Who is it?”

            “Your grandfather,” his dad mouthed back.

            “Did you want to talk to her? Mm, okay. Hold on.”

            Hoseok’s father stood and held the phone up to his mom’s ear. As his father held the phone up, he wiped a stray trail of drool from the corner of her open mouth. Hoseok watched as his mom listened to the person on the other end of the line. He didn’t know what was being said, but he knew she was reacting to it. The muscles in her face remained still, but her eyes moved toward the phone and around, trying to find the person speaking to her.

            He pressed his hands to his elbows in an attempt to quell the shudder coursing through him.

            “You okay?” His father looked up at him.

            “I’m just ready to swim. Can we leave?”

            His father eyed him, expressionless. Hoseok couldn’t tell what it was that shifted behind his eyes before he spoke.

            “Yeah. After your grandfather is finished we’ll take her back inside.”

 

~~~

 

            After months of intensive rehabilitation attempts, his mother was moved back closer to home. The hospital had made the decision to transfer her as she wasn’t making enough progress and there were others who were waiting to receive treatment. Hoseok didn’t care about those other people. He just wanted his mom back.

            Since she was now closer, Hoseok’s grandparents would pick him up and take him to see her. They’d spend time wheeling her around the premises, which unfortunately did not have an outside area for her to enjoy like the other hospital did.

            This was their last trip to see her before school started. It was a few days before her birthday, so Hoseok decided to make her a card to show her. He lifted it to where she could see easy and displayed the picture he drew and what he wrote—including ‘happy birthday’ and ‘I love you.’

            That was when she smiled. It wasn’t really a smile in the usual sense, but he saw the muscles around the corner of her mouth move slightly. The amount might have been small, but to him—it was everything. Hoseok jerked his head back, sucking in a breath to hold the tears at bay. Not only did he get her to smile, but he was the first one that got her to do it.

 

~~~

 

            He was twirling a pen between his fingers as he waited on his first class of the day to begin. Math. Hoseok loved math but he hated being told to use a pencil. He much preferred pens, and as he made very few mistakes he saw no reason to use a pencil.

            “Seriously? Are you trying to get detention the second week of school?” His friend Kihyun hissed—but the laughter that crinkled the skin around his eyes betrayed him.

            “Psshh, you know none of them would give me detention.” Hoseok snorted. Kihyun’s face closed off. They both knew that all of the teachers liked his mom—it was hard not to like the friendly, hard-working high school drama instructor. The other teachers had been quick to offer their condolences on his first day. Hoseok had done his best to bear hearing and responding to the almost robotic words.

            As his math teacher walked in, Hoseok sighed and pulled out a mechanical pencil. To him, they weren’t as bad as the regular wood ones. The teacher was interrupted mid-roll call and beckoned into the hallway. When he walked back in, he met Hoseok’s gaze.

            “You’re needed in the principal’s office.” Students immediately ‘ooh’-ed and tittered as Hoseok stood. He raced through what on earth he could have done to get in trouble this early in the school year.

            “What did you do?” The teacher joked with him as he passed.

            “I honestly don’t know.” Hoseok grinned and walked out.

            The walk around the hallway to the front of the main office seemed miles longer than usual. He was analyzing everything he had said, done, worn—anything that could have gotten him into trouble. The secretary at the front desk had a somber look on her face as she led him back and opened the door.

            Hoseok froze. His grandparents were sitting in the two chairs in front of the principal’s desk, a tissue box in his grandmother’s lap. His grandfather stood.

            “Please sit,” the principal gestured to the chair.

            “What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Hoseok looked to his grandmother as he sat. She shook her head and buried her face into another tissue.

            “Your mother has passed away.”

            Silence.

            The words bounced through Hoseok’s head.

            Try as he might, he couldn’t catch them.

            Couldn’t make sense of them.

            “When?”

            “Earlier this morning.”

            “Does my sister know?”

            “We’re going to get her next.” His grandfather spoke.

            “Where is my father?”

            “He’s driving back from work now.” His grandfather laid a hand on his shoulder.

            Hoseok sat, no other questions poured forth. There were plenty that he wanted to ask, but just weren’t sure how. He landed on one.

            “How?”

            The principal looked to his grandparents and spoke on their behalf.

            “A blood clot formed and stopped her heart.”

            More silence. His grandmother finally cleared her throat.

            “Do you want to go home with us?”

            Hoseok twisted his hands. If he went home, it was likely he’d be surrounded by grieving people, all crying. He’d rather be here, at school, where his friends were. They wouldn’t spew the stereotypical responses for loss—they’d cheer him up without trying too hard at it.

            “No, I’d like to stay.”

…

            The next few days were a blur of endless casseroles, soft drinks, and donuts. Hoseok’s family had so much food that at some point his father redirected people to a shelter nearby. He also couldn’t pick out who said what or how they tried to comfort him with their words. Hoseok would simply press his lips together and nod solemnly in acceptance.

            It wasn’t until he was sitting in the front row of the church that it hit him. His mother was inside the box that was held aloft in the midst of the nave. She wouldn’t be there to see him graduate high school. She wouldn’t be there for his first relationship or for his first break-up. She wouldn’t be there to watch late-night tv with him—that he probably shouldn’t have been watching in the first place. She was gone.

            Hoseok did his best to hold on to the sobs in his throat while lines of tears marched down his cheeks.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

(Now)

            He was standing in an oddly lit classroom. The late afternoon sun filtered in through the windows that were high on the wall, but the lights in the underground room were turned off.

            The rows of empty desks faced him where he stood, despite the chalkboard standing in front of him. Motion drew his attention to the left of the board. With the sunlight filtering in behind the figure, it was hard to see who it was until his pupils adjusted.

            “Mom?”

            She was silent at first, watching him with a great sadness in her eyes.

            “Why aren’t you looking for me?”

            Hoseok couldn’t reply.

            “I’m out there, sweetie, you just have to find me.”

**BEEEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEEP**

            The harsh tone of his cell phone alarm saved him from the dream. No. From the nightmare. Hoseok had been seeing her in his dream for months, years after her passing. Sometimes she would visit and say that she had to leave but would be back again and he would wake up the slightest bit lighter than he had gone to sleep. Most of the time, it was guilt-ridden nightmares like that one.

            Hoseok felt like he was failing her now like he failed her then, over a decade ago, when he didn’t cherish the time he spent with his mother. Whether she was comatose or not. Often he’d remember her waking him with a made up song, the lyrics along the lines of: “wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey.” Of course there were no eggs or bacon to be had, but the point was that she did her best to make him smile. Even when waking up on a school day. He would definitely take that over his current alarm.

            He swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand and wondered who would bring up something that reminded him of her. It wasn’t that hard, as it seemed that time couldn’t scrub the world of her fingerprints. His skin tone, his nose, his face shape. Just looking in the mirror would send him spiraling. Or even his own father, telling him how proud she would have been of him.

            She was everywhere, and yet nowhere. And Hoseok was caught in the middle without escape.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @monmaddie  
> Monbebe Amino: I.M the Devil
> 
>  
> 
> I love you, mom.


End file.
